


To Catch a Smuggler

by GinevraEowynUndomiel



Series: Mandalorian Ficlets [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22047616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinevraEowynUndomiel/pseuds/GinevraEowynUndomiel
Summary: MANDALORIAN SEASON 1 SPOILERSHe placed the puck on the table, and the holo popped up.“Han Solo,” Cara laughed beside him.  “He has to hunt down Han Kriffing Solo?”“I thought I told you low priority,” Din said, pointing at Greef.  “A smuggler with known connections to the Hutts and Crimson Dawn isn’t low priority.”“The client isn’t the Hutts or Crimson Dawn,” Greef waved him off.“Who then?” Din asked seriously.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Greef Karga & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Leia Organa/Han Solo, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Omera (Star Wars)
Series: Mandalorian Ficlets [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586986
Comments: 8
Kudos: 160





	To Catch a Smuggler

**Author's Note:**

> Who indeed?
> 
> Not hard to guess. Anyway, this is a continuation of my one-shot, "This is the Way." You can read that one first, but it's not necessary to pick up where this fic is heading. This is my imagining of a crossover between some of our favorite original series characters and Mando & Co. Enjoy! Not sure how long this will be. Probably not terribly long.

Din felt a pang in his chest as Winta hugged the Child tightly on the gangway of the _Razor Crest_.

“You can’t go!” she cried. “You just came back.”

Omera gently took her daughter by the shoulders and pulled her back as Din stooped to pick up the Child.

“We’ll be back soon,” he tried to reassure the girl. “Just going to replenish our supplies and pick up a job or two.”

“Can’t I go, Mommy?” Winta begged her mother again.

“No, sweetheart,” Omera hugged her daughter close. “I’ll take you off-world someday, but not yet.”

“Or lil Greenie could stay here!” Winta tried, “We could keep him safe!”

“He needs to stay close to his father,” Omera sighed, “As you need to stay close to me.”

“It’s not fair,” the girl pouted and stomped off toward the village.

Omera sighed and watched her daughter go.

“I envy her optimism,” Din said.

“That’s childhood,” Omera smiled sadly. “They don’t realize how dangerous the universe can be when all they know is a small corner of it.”

“I’m sorry we have to leave like this,” Din paused, “again.”

“Just promise me you’ll return safely,” Omera said, stepping into his waiting embrace.

Din sighed and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Even through all the beskar she felt warm, soft, and… safe.

He placed a gloved finger under her chin and tilted her head up so he could look her in the eye.

“I’ll try,” he said seriously.

“You’d better, Din Djarin,” she returned in the same tone. “That boy needs you. And I…” she stopped.

“I know,” he finished and touched his helmeted forehead to hers.

He held her like that for a minute before stepping back. 

“We’d better go,” he said.

“Right,” Omera said, stepping off the gangway. “I need to check on Winta.”

She turned down the path back to the village. Din watched her go for a minute before hitting the button to close the gangway.

“C’mon, kiddo,” he said. “Let’s see what the Guild has got for us.”

The Child smiled his toothy grin and traced a clawed finger over the mudhorn signet on his pauldron.

“That’s us, _ad’ika_ ,” Din said softly. “A clan of two.”

A moment later he was in the pilot seat with the Child strapped in behind him. He brought the _Razor Crest_ to life and began punching in the coordinates as they rose into the air. As he brought the ship around, he could just make out Omera standing on the edge of the clearing waving at him. He hoped she could see him waving back.

* * *

He didn’t know exactly what he expected to find on Arvala-7. Kuiil’s farm was exactly as he had last seen it, but it was strange being there without the Ugnaught.

Somehow the place hadn’t been scrapped by the Jawas yet. Probably the little womp rats didn’t know what had become of their neighbor, but Din was glad to know they respected Kuiil enough to leave his property alone when he was away from home.

His gloved hand drew a trail in the dust and sand that had settled on the workbench. Then, a drawer labeled ‘backups’ piqued his interest. Inside was a mess of datachips, but one on top of the pile stood out. 

It was labeled ‘IG-11 Memory Backup’ and dated the day Din had last come to Arvala-7 and asked Kuiil to join him in the rendezvous on Nevarro.

Din snatched up the chip and practically ran back to the ship. Once in the cockpit, he plugged the chip in and waited.

A familiar voice came over the comm. “I am IG-11, a modified nursemaid protection unit. My primary functions are care of offspring and protection of my assigned family unit.”

Din’s voice caught in his throat. Given his history with droids, he was unfamiliar with the sensation.

“I am unable to connect with my body unit,” the droid communicated. “Am I being repaired?”

“Y—,” Din started. “Your… body unit was destroyed. All I have is your last backup, “Din said.

“Analyzing voice database…” the droid said. “Am I speaking to the one Master Kuiil calls ‘The Mandalorian’?”

“Yes,” Din confirmed. “My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

“Processing…” IG-11 replied. “Name added. I will now call you ‘Master Din’. Is this acceptable?”

“In private, yes,” Din said. “Otherwise it’s ‘Mando’ or ‘The Mandalorian’. Can you handle that?”

“Processing…” the droid said. “Preferred names for ‘Din Djarin’ confirmed.”

There was a pause followed by, “When can I be expected to return to my body unit, Master Din?” the droid asked.

“As soon as I find you one,” Din replied.

“If you can install this datachip in my body unit, I can run a diagnostic,” the droid said.

“I told you, your body unit was destroyed,” Din sighed. “You self-destructed to… protect your family unit.”

Another pause. “Then I fulfilled my primary function,” the droid said with finality. “Are Kuill and the Child safe?”

Din should’ve expected that, but he was still caught off-guard. “The Child is safe.” He paused before replying. “Kuiil… didn’t make it. He died trying to save the Child.”

There was another long pause. “I have a protocol in my memory bank,” the droid said. “It says that if Master Kuiil should be terminated, my ownership passes to ‘The Mandalorian’. Am I to remain in your service, Sir?”

It was Din’s turn to pause. “Yes,” he finally said. “Though I can’t promise when we’ll get you a new body unit.”

“Might I make a list of suggestions, Sir?” the droid asked. “My protocols are compatible with all IG units as well as B1 battle droid units…”

“No battle droids,” Din said firmly.

“I can also inhabit many models of security droids,” the droid said. “A protocol droid might also be modified.”

“Nah, those damn things are slow,” Din said. “We’ll find you something.”

“Yes, Master Din,” the droid said. “In the meantime, I am available to answer questions and provide advice about raising of offspring and nursing care.”

“Wonderful,” Din said, his gaze turning to the Child asleep in his flight seat.

Having the droid around again would certainly be useful. If Din was going to take on jobs again he needed someone—or something in this case—to watch the child and have his back.

It was then that he saw the Jawa crawler making its way along the horizon.

Perfect timing, he said to himself.

Din made his way out of the ship and sent up an emergency flare, hoping to catch the attention of the crawler. Once the flare went off, he saw the crawler slowly turn in his direction.

It took a while, but eventually the crawler pulled up next to Kuiil’s compound. A side hatch opened, and several Jawas crawled out with a protocol droid in tow.

The Jawas chittered away in their indiscernible language as they approached. Their voices seemed excited when they got close, and Din heard them incessantly repeating a word he thought he remembered as ‘egg’.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he said. “I got the damn mudhorn egg. Not this time!” he chuckled. “I’ve got credits.”

He held out the credits in his hand to show them.

A Jawa approached and chittered away in a tone that sounded exasperated.

“No credits,” the protocol droid said, “They will only take trade. Your ship, for example.”

“The ship’s not for sale,” Din said firmly.

More chittering.

“The Ugnaught usually has spare parts to trade,” the protocol droid said.

“Yeah, I can look through those,” Din said. “Kuiil would understand.”

More chittering.

“They are curious about what you’re looking for,” the droid said.

“I need an IG unit,” Din said. “You know, one of the hunters. Preferably with a busted memory.”

Several of the Jawas disappeared into the crawler. Din heard distant chittering and several clunks before the Jawas returned.

They presented him with several battle droids of various classes, a few KX series Imperial security droids, and a crate of parts. In the crate was the unmistakable head of an IG unit.

“Perfect,” Din said, picking up the head and examining it. “I’ll take it.”

After the Jawas picked through Kuiil’s workshop and picked out some junk parts that Din couldn’t think of a use for, they skittered back into their crawler and disappeared.

He stared into the crate of parts. It looked like all the components were there. If not, he’d find others among the parts Kuiil had stocked, or he’d see what the Guild had on Nevarro. They kept a stockpile of spare parts for whenever an IG returned damaged but serviceable.

For now, he set to work with what he had. He left the Child secured on the ship. Once he got the new IG-11 online he had to be sure that the hunter protocols were erased before placing the child in its care. He removed the memory chip from the body unit, stomped on it, shot it with his blaster, and burned it with his flamethrower until it was a pile of ash.

It took a few days of tinkering and studying Kuiil’s notes, but after a few shocked fingers, IG-11 was ready. He had to use the right hand from a KX unit, but it seemed to work just fine. 

A hand on his blaster, Din hit the power button and waited.

The red lights in the head came to life. A few garbled noises from the vocal processor and, “I am IG-11, a modified nursemaid protection unit. My primary functions are care of offspring and protection of my assigned family unit.”

Din maintained a hand on the blaster. “Do you retain any hunter protocols?” he asked carefully.

“My primary functions are care of offspring and protection of my assigned family unit,” the droid repeated. “I will protect if needed, but my creator Kuiil removed the hunter protocols from my manufacturer. I do have secondary protocols to self-destruct if captured. Would you like to remove these protocols?”

“No,” Din said. “You might need that.”

“To whom am I speaking?” the droid asked. “My vocal memory recognizes you as ‘Master Din’. Is this correct?”

“Yes, IG, it’s me,” Din said. “Can you move?”

The droid stood from the table. “I have retained motor function,” IG confirmed.

“Are you hunting the one they call, ‘The Child’?” Din asked. He had to be sure before he allowed the droid on the ship.

“The Child is in my care,” the droid said. “My primary functions will not allow harm to come to the Child.”

“Good,” Din said. “I’m still keeping an eye on you.”

“That is wise, Sir,” the droid said.

“Well come on then,” Din said. He turned and walked back to the ship.

“Right away, Sir,” the droid said, falling into step behind him.

They spent a few more days on Arvala-7 before taking off again. At first Din only allowed IG to be in the presence of the Child while he held him close and kept a hand on his blaster. The child was constantly reaching for IG, but Din kept a tight hold on him. Then he allowed IG to make their meals while Din fed the child. The next day, he allowed IG to talk to the Child while Din put him down for his nap and changed his diaper.

By the end of the week, Din allowed IG to hold the Child. He held his breath as he passed the Child over, all the while keeping a hand on his blaster.

“I must ask you not to handle your weapons in the presence of the Child,” IG said. “I am not detecting any external threats.”

“Good,” Din said, “Your protocols seem to be functioning correctly.”

“Running a diagnostic…” the droid said. “I am not detecting any malfunctions.”

“Alright then,” Din said. “Join me in the cockpit, and we’ll set off.”

“Yes, Sir,” the droid replied.

* * *

“Mando!” the overly cheerful voice of Greef Karga came over the comm. “Nice you see you again!”

Din coughed. “Got any jobs for me?” he asked. “Low priority, you understand.”

“Of course!” Greef replied. “I’ve got the perfect job for you. Come down to the surface, and we’ll discuss the terms.”

“Understood,” Din said before ending the transmission.

He landed the _Razor Crest_ on the outskirts of town.

“Stay with the Child, IG,” Din said. “I’ll keep an open comm. You’re not to leave the ship unless I give you the distress signal.”

“Understood, Sir,” the droid replied.

“Until I return, _ad’ika_ ,” Din said, placing a gloved hand on the sleeping child’s forehead.

The little one smacked his lips and turned in his sleep. Din smiled under his helmet and sent a silent prayer that they would be safe while he was gone.

At the entrance to the village he was greeted by none other than Cara Dune.

“Long time, no see,” she smirked. “Where ya been, Mando?”

“Sorgan,” he replied but didn’t give anything more.

“I knew it,” she smiled. “How’s Omera?”

“Good,” Din replied. “She’s… good.”

“Uh-huh,” Cara smirked. “So why’d you come back?”

“Looking for a job,” Din said.

“But you’re going back,” Cara said. It wasn’t a question.

Din hesitated. Of course he missed Omera. Of course he wanted to go back. But…

“But you’re not one to settle down,” Cara finished for him. “Is that what you told her?”

“No!” he said hotly. “She made me promise.”

“Right,” Cara said. “I guess it’s my job to make sure you go back.”

Din stopped and turned to look at the ex-shock trooper. Oh, how he wished she could see his face. Body language and his voice would have to suffice.

“That’s not any of your concern, Dune,” he said seriously.

“Look, if you’re not going back just tell me, and I’ll lay off,” she said, turning in the direction of the cantina. “But you gotta be honest with yourself.”

“I’ll keep you posted,” Din said.

They entered the cantina. Din noted the patchwork and the new window on the outside. No signs of the firefight remained.

“Mando!” Greef called from his usually table.

“Greef,” Din replied, taking the empty chair across from him.

“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon!” Greef said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“The job?” Din asked.

“Always direct,” Greef laughed. “That’s why I like you, Mando! Here.”

He placed the puck on the table, and the holo popped up.

“Han Solo,” Cara laughed beside him. “He has to hunt down Han Kriffing Solo?”

“I thought I told you low priority,” Din said, pointing at Greef. “A smuggler with known connections to the Hutts and Crimson Dawn isn’t low priority.”

“The client isn’t the Hutts or Crimson Dawn,” Greef waved him off.

“Who then?” Din asked seriously.

“His wife,” Greef chuckled. “Senator Organa herself.”

“Surely she has people for that,” Cara huffed. “The Princess is high up in the New Republic. She’s got connections everywhere. Her brother’s a kriffing Jedi!”

“Apparently ol’ Han has returned to his smuggling ways,” Greef said. “He up and left Chandrila a few weeks ago with Chewbacca in tow.”

“What are the terms?” Din asked.

“Warm,” Greef said. “He’s to be delivered back to Chandrila unharmed.”

“And the Wookie?” Din asked again.

“Also warm,” Greef said. “The terms say he shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Uh-huh,” Din huffed. “You ever met a Wookie?”

“He won’t be a problem!” Greef waved him off again. “So, will you take it?”

Din grabbed the puck from the table. “My usual fee,” he pointed at Greef. “No discounts.”

“Of course, Mando!” Greef laughed. “Take Ms. Dune, here, with you. She’s been looking bored.”

“I thought I was your enforcer,” Cara scoffed. 

“As you can see, Mando,” Greef smiled and gestured around, “We’ve been doing well here on Nevarro since you helped oust those Imps.”

“Any sign of them?” Din asked suddenly alert.

“Not a peep,” Greef laughed. “Here’s your tracker. Remember, warm.”

“Warm,” Din confirmed.

**Author's Note:**

> Well? Did I hit you in the feels there in the middle? I figured Mando couldn't go off on jobs without his trusty nanny droid in tow. That's my headcanon, and I'm sticking to it.


End file.
